


Maybe This Time

by wheniamqueenx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 20:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheniamqueenx/pseuds/wheniamqueenx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexa and Grimmy had a plan all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe This Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written about this story/night, the valentines day before last http://www.mirror.co.uk/3am/celebrity-news/harry-styles-gets-over-caroline-687462

Harry lets his eyes open against the whirring street lights, blinking and sitting up slightly as he hears muffled conversation up the front of the cab.  
  
Alexa turns to him, smiling sweetly, “alright, back there, Harry?” she asks.  
  
“Mmpff,” is all he lets out, rubbing a hand over his face, he’s tired more than he is drunk.  
  
Alexa chuckles. It’s then Harry then notices his surroundings more.  
  
“Wait, this isn’t-” he starts, looking outside the cab window in the night.  
  
“Yeah, I know. Don’t be mad, it was Grimmy’s idea.”  
  
“Mad. Why would I be mad?” There’s a slight frown pulling between his eyes now.  
  
“Um,” is all Alexa seems to offer in return though.  
  
Then he notices they’ve come to a stop.  
  
“We lost paparazzi ages ago, but still safer not to stop right in front of her house.”  
  
He looks outside once again, it’s dark but he finally registers where they are. Almost instantaneously his chest clenches , he hasn’t been here in weeks now, maybe even longer than that, he’s not sure; he’s tried not to think about it too much as of late.  
  
“Alexa, you didn’t...” he trails off.  
  
Alexa winces, looking slightly concerned, Harry’s eyes are slightly damp and she panics.  
  
“I’m sorry! We can go if you like, she knows you’re coming though. She wanted you to come.”  
  
He bites his lip gingerly, then quietly speaks, eyes still on the street, “really?”  
  
“Yes. You know she still...”, Alexa trails off, setting on, “you’ve been talking about her all evening.”  
  
His cheeks flush slightly at that and they lapse into silence, Alexa turning to the cab driver to get him to stay just that bit longer, eyes pleading.  
  
“Here,” she says when Harry makes no attempt to talk or move.  
  
It’s the bunch of flowers she mysteriously acquired at some point in the night. Belatedly he realises, they’re Caroline’s favourites. He kind of wants to kiss kiss or shake Alexa at that point, instead he just laughs and takes them.  
  
“You two...” he shakes his fist weakly before leaning over and settling on hugging her, whispering thank you, so sincerely she almost tears up herself.  
  
He insists on paying for the cab until waving her off and bounding down the street, then round the corner.  
  
When he reaches Caroline’s door, he notes the fluttering in his chest, it’s 3am and he feels ridiculous but she wanted him to come. Right, yes, he thinks to himself, walking towards the door with a new assertiveness, really glad he decided not to get blind drunk and most of the alcohol he did drink has worn away by now. He knocks twice before stepping back, shaking slightly with adrenaline and nerves.  
  
It’s only a few seconds until she opens the door.  
  
Harry isn’t sure what to say for a bit, then abruptly holds the flowers out, shaking his other hand in a silly gesture, “happy valentines!” he sing songs, as if this had been their arrangement all along.  
  
Then before he can even really get a proper look at her, she’s dragging him forwards and hugging him, her head burrowing into the side of his neck, letting out a deep breath and all he can do is cling at her small frame and hold her back just as tightly. Her hair smells like grapefuit, his head flooded with memories of twirling his fingers through it. He hears her sigh softly against his skin.  
  
“I’m sorry about the flowers,” he babbles out, “I would've got you something better, but-”  
  
She lets out a sharp and short laugh at that, in a way that makes Harry’s chest bubble with warmth. Slowly she pulls away, and he takes the opportunity to shut her front door.  
  
“Don’t be silly Harry,” she finally says, hand’s on his shoulders, looking up at him. “I’ve got you, haven’t I?”  
  
He knows they’ll have to talk about this properly and work things out but right now he holds onto the moment, as if he could keep it and tuck it away somewhere in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say so he just throws a wonky smile at her, they laugh some more. Suddenly feeling ridiculous just standing there and not saying anything, Harry gently presses the flowers towards her for something to do with his hands.  
  
“Thank you,” she says, unable to shake her smile, he takes his coat off and follows her to the kitchen.  
  
In the artificial light he now sees she’s in her dressing gown, pyjama bottom’s dragging on the floor slightly, her hair is loose and maybe looks like she attempted to tidy it up when she knew he was coming.  
  
“How comes you’re awake anyway?” He asks, making conversation as she fills a vase with water.  
  
“Oh, you know, screwed up my sleeping pattern with jobs and one thing and another,“ she supplies, as he watches with a fondness, as she delicately trims the stems of the flowers.  
  
“Well as long as I’m not disturbing you.”  
  
“Harry...” She starts, as if to remind him,  _I wanted you here_ , or  _it doesn’t matter anyway_.  
  
He steps forward, placing his hand gently on her hips as she finally places the flowers in the vase, sighing with satisfaction as they spread.  
  
“Let’s go to bed,” he says, hoping she realises he’s implying nothing more than laying with her.  
  
That’s all he’s thought about really. She leans back into his body heat, nodding softly.  
  
“Sounds perfect,” she replies, turning her head slightly to kiss him on the cheek.  
  
In her bedroom they get ready in comfortable silence, the quiet sound of cars passing, the streetlights casting shapes lightly against the cream curtains. Harry sits down on the edge of the bed in his t shirt and black boxers, smoothing his hands over the sheets slightly nervously as he eyes the line of Caroline’s neck as she ties her hair up. She looks over her shoulder at him. He turns his body towards her from where she is on the other side, stretching his fingers out across the space to touch the inside of her wrist, as if he’s awed by her presence. Caroline’s eyes lock on the movement, she lets out a light giggle.  
  
“What?” Harry says incredulously, signifying with his hands, meaning she looses the point of contact and tries not to be silly and mourn it.  
  
She just shakes her head and slips under the covers. Her dressing gown is discarded now, revealing a shirt, it’s thin and worn, but soft, Harry supposes. She looks beautiful. He slips in beside her.  
  
“We’re just kind of ridiculous,” she finally says, when Harry’s lying on his side facing her, head propped up on his hand.  
  
“The good type of ridiculous though, right?” her lips twitch slightly and he wants to kiss the corner of her mouth, doesn’t know if he’s allowed.  
  
“What are we doing?” He then blurts out, suddenly feeling young and stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth.  
  
Caroline slips her eyes shut cutting out the hopeful bright of his eyes,  
  
“I missed you,” she admits, and it comes out breathy, a sigh more than it is spoken.  
  
When she opens her eyes again Harry is unreadable for a moment in a way that makes her chest tighten, but his hand has reached to hold hers under the duvet and she lets their fingers tangle. Then his face is open and lovely again, in the way that drew her to him in the first place.  
  
“I missed you too,” he says, “I mean of course I did.”  
  
He looks fierce with it and she can feel a lump in her throat, doesn’t want to think of him broken.  
  
“But this is hard,” she says plaintively, and Harry grips her hand tighter.  
  
She doesn’t want to break him, at the same time doesn’t know how she can drag herself through this. Right now they’re just two people in a bed at 3am but outside of this, it’s a different thing altogether.  
  
Harry bites his lip on, ‘but worth it, we can make it worth it.’  
  
“I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
“Don’t then,” he replies, as if it’s easy, like they were always just easy.  
  
She blinks at him, taking in his features, the softness of his lips. Remembering how it felt to kiss in the morning.  
  
“I mean, if you don’t want me, then it’s fine. But I need to know. I won’t be hurt. But you wanted me to come here at 3am so... I don’t know where that leaves us. I sort of feel like you have the answers on that one. You know how I feel about you. I mean you must. I just. I like you a lot. And I think, maybe that’s what matters, that’s all that should matter?”  
  
“Should,” she strains, hating herself for it instantly.  
  
“I’m not going to beg you to take me back,” he finally says, tone dropping to a tired acceptance, Caroline can see the way his face has closed down a bit.  
  
She leans towards him, swooping her hand round his neck back, holding him close.  
  
Her resolve is breaking and she lets slip, “but the stupid thing is Harry, is, I think,” she takes a breath to choke back the lump in her throat, wanting to laugh but instead saying, “ I love you? In fact I’m quite mad at you for it.”  
  
It’s muttered against his neck but Harry hears and feels every syllable of it.  
  
Then Harry’s laughing, loud and bright, until he’s pulling away only to lean forward, mumbling against her lips ,“I love you too.”  
  
As they kiss, Caroline thinks, maybe it’s possible that they can brave the storm together.  
  



End file.
